


As Professional As They Come

by BlackIris



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Reader-Insert, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 10:58:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14042781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackIris/pseuds/BlackIris
Summary: You are a strong independent woman, who doesn’t need a man to help her with things. Okay, you don’t need Bucky to help, but you want him to.. Right?





	As Professional As They Come

**Author's Note:**

> This is for @prettyyoungtragedy ‘s 1k writing challenge!! Darling, congrats again! I hope you enjoy this little drabble!   
> Un-beta'd, enjoy!

Bucky sits at the desk he rarely uses, in the office you almost always forget he has. He’s hunched over a document when you tap your knuckles on the door frame, announcing your presence.

“Heya Buck.”

“Hmm, hey doll.” He mumbles, looking up quickly with a small smirk playing at his lips.

“I was wondering where you got off to. Are you busy?”

He holds up the papers in his hand and shrugs comically. “I dunno what half of this means, you’re a welcome distraction.”

“In that case,” You smile as you make your way to his desk, sitting on the edge. “I was hoping for your opinion.”

“On what?” He asks, somewhat distractedly, looking back and forth between you and his papers. His metal hand runs up and down your calf aimlessly.

“I was thinking of putting up curtains in our room. Like those nice big ones with the fancy curly bits on the end.”

“Don’t we have curtains already?” His brows furrow, trying to recall the detail.

“We do, but since we moved, I want different ones. Maybe you could help me?” You ask, biting your lip, raising your eyebrows, trying not to laugh over how you just simply don’t want to do this simple task.

Bucky chuckles, “If my baby wants new curtains, she gets –“

“Buck,” Steve knocks on the open door, “Hey, Y/N. Sorry, Buck you’re already late for the briefing. Remember what happened last time?”

“Yeah, yeah, Tony threw a fit.” Bucky drops the abandoned document in a drawer, standing and kissing you on the forehead. “Sorry doll, man child of technology calls.”

You smile, used to the daily interruptions that this life brings with it. “Tell tin man I said hi. And Steve,” you stand and follow Bucky out the door. “You gotta learn to stand up for yourself, pal.”

Steve dramatically rolls his eyes, looking to Bucky, “It’s like there’s fucking two of you.”

Bucky wraps an arm around you, chuckling as you walk them to the elevator. “Yeah, she’s a little spitfire sometimes.”

“That’s why you love me.” You say, smiling at both men.

“I’d say that I’m surprised that you manage to keep him in line..” Steve trails off.

“I know, I have my ways and nothing surprises you anymore.” You quip, giving Bucky a peck on the cheek as they enter the elevator. “Don’t stay out too late, you two need your beauty sleep!” You say as the doors close.

You worry your lip thinking about your interrupted conversation with Bucky as you walk back down the corridor. Heels clicking with each step, fueling your thoughts with their cadence. You didn’t need to wait for Bucky to do the curtains, you could do them yourself. Along with a number of other projects around your flat. If he could do it, pft, so could you. How hard could it be?

On your way home, you swing by a few stores, taking your time and picking out just the right hardware, curtains, and chargeable hand drill to get the job done. Along with a few other things you’ve been meaning to grab to fully spruce up your place, you’re all set to Rosie the Riveter your way into a beautiful living space.

You shuffle all of your new treasures into your flat just as your phone pings with a new message.

> **Buck:** _Baby doll, this meeting is running late.. and Tony just ordered food for everyone. Fucking fabulous._
> 
> **Buck:** _I’m sorry, I’ll be home as soon as I can._

You lightly laugh, shaking your head, typing out a message back to try not to kill Tony and that it was okay.

Bucky maybe suffering, stuck at the office, but that just gives you more time to fully develop and execute your mini home renovation plans. 

Rubbing your hands together in a slightly maniacal way, you move to the bedroom closet to find a more an appropriate uniform. You exchange your work skirt and blouse for one of Bucky’s old shirts and a pair of comfy yoga pants, tying the shirt into a knot at your hip.

Next is music. You turn connect your ipod to the speakers, finding something upbeat and loud, loud enough to drown out the small voices of doubt.

The curtains are your main objective, the other smaller projects can lay at the wayside for the mean time. You remove the existing curtain rod, and slowly but surely take down the mounted prongs. You use the small level you bought and mark placements for the new brackets.

“Nice. Very nice.” You mumble to yourself, the new holes and hardware should cover the old ones.

Soon the new rod is installed, only slightly crooked, something you can easily live with. As long as Tony never sees it, it shouldn’t be a problem.

You set the drill back in its charger to be ready for you next project while you work on steaming the fold lines out of the sheer curtains and the thicker black out curtains. Wanting them to look as fine as possible to prove your point of being able to do this fabulously on your own. 

After hanging your new curtains, you’re too busy admiring your handy work to notice a certain someone stealth fully moving into the room behind you.

“Damn, doll.” Bucky says, in awe, making you jump as he wraps his arms around your waist.

“Remind me to put a bell on you.” You sneer without malice, running your hands over his.

“Looks like you didn’t need me to do the curtains, huh?”

“It wasn’t too bad; do you like them?”

“I do. Much better than the old ones.” He pauses, mumbling softly, “Wonder what else you don’t need me around here for.”

“James Barnes,” You turn in arms to face him, “I need you for plenty and you know that.”

“Do you?” Bucky asks, eyebrows lifting.

“Well, I need you for a few things. But I want you for more. And that’s what matters.” You peck his lips, smiling slightly.

“You’ve got a point there, doll.” He releases you with a smile, pointing to the drill, he asks, “Since when did we have that?”

Giggling, you slide over to it and pick up, striking a pose, showing off the pink drill. “Just got it in today, stud. You like what you see?”

He barks out a laugh, nodding, and moving towards you. He reaches for it, stopping mid step as his arm makes a few odd noises. “What the..” Bucky’s arm continues to make an irregular whirling noise, two of his fingers click in their movements before becoming stuck, sticking straight out from his palm. 

 **“I can fix that!”** You excitedly jest, picking up the drill again.

**“No, I am calling a professional!”**

**“I am a professional!!”** you say, wiggling your eyebrows andpulling the trigger on the drill a few times, revving it. You take a step towards Bucky and he instinctively takes a step back.

 **“A more professional, professional!”** His voice wavers as he holds back a laugh. “I’m not letting you near me with that thing.”

“Not even to let me kiss it better?” You lowering your hand with the drill, putting it on the counter, but don’t release it.

“No. You might go all Frankenstein on my ass. Or worse.. All Tony.” Bucky shudders dramatically.

“Alright, have it your way.” You playfully pout, releasing the drill and shuffling slowly towards him.

“Thanks. I’ll just go in early tomorrow.” He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and dropping a kiss to your hair. “No need to worry.”

“I always worry about you.” You say, nuzzling into him. “And there’s no way I’d be as bad as Tony!”

“Fair enough,” Bucky chortles, “How about as bad as Steve?”

“Hmm,” You pretend to think it over. “I’d say he’s as bad as me, but even I can’t top that crazy.” 

“Thank fuck, doll.” 


End file.
